


Seven Days of Healing

by Angelique (Kinoink)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Budding Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends to Lovers, More tags added later possibly, Mutual Pining, No Beta, Post-Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers, Talks of previous trauma, past friendships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29415087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kinoink/pseuds/Angelique
Summary: When the battle against Hades reached its end, and the Exarch's exhausted state leaves him confined to his bedchamber. What is his old, best friend to do?
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	Seven Days of Healing

**Author's Note:**

> In the original storyline's dialogue it was said that the Exarch healed overnight after his ordeal in the Tempest. I'm deciding to run by my own personal headcanon and let the relationship develop from there.

The return of the night had been long fought and a relief now that Hades had been lay low and the Warrior of Darkness’ infernal parasitic light no longer in her body. Oh the bard could recount the steps taken through the Tempest, every beat of a heart and step in the sand had been that of a tick of a chronometer, slowly slipping away time that she did not have. Every hour not spent on traveling had been another hour that the Exarch had been away from the tower, under the hand of Emet-Selch. The Ascian was gone, but not forgotten deep down and the Crystarium celebrated when they arrived, that moonrise; beaten, slightly broken, dirtied, but it mattered little at the time.

Drinks and food were served aplenty, children awake from their beds later than usual, lantern light filled the streets as the sounds of music and chatter filled the usually quiet night air. Angelique sighed softly to herself as she swirled the amber liquid at the bottom of her mug, green eyes slightly in a daze as she looked down to the townspeople below, but they averted to the red hair frosted with whitish silver along the tips. The Exarch- no, G’raha Tia was conversing with Alphinaud, a rather casual conversation by the looks of it, but despite the feeling of seeing him awake making her heart flutter like a bird trapped in a cage; her mind was a maelstrom of emotions as she was unsure how to feel. Passing feelings of anger, sadness, happiness, swirling at a constant to the point it made her stomach nauseated. 

Old habits died a hard death it appeared as she watched G’raha move away from Alphinaud, waving him away much like he had done to Chessamile earlier, and making his way to the stairs to the tower, so she gulped down the rest of her drink not minding the dull burn against the back of her throat as she set the cup down, leaving from her watch tower to follow from a distance. There perhaps should have been a time and place to talk later, but right at this moment all she felt was the pull of needing to speak it now behind the closed doors of a place she once called his prison.

Guards were mostly off duty to celebrate the return of night, their beloved Exarch, but the one who was often stalwart by the doors to the tower let her pass by with little question. The dull thud behind her felt almost like a final sound that reverberated through her bones, but Angelique worked to focus on the sound that came after; what had once been a rhythmic tapping noise of a metal staff meeting crystal stairs turned into a clatter and a soft thump of what also had been a body hitting the floor. It seemed he hadn’t gotten very far, so she followed the descending spiral that would make her way down to where the Ocular was located, but not far down on the first landing had been slightly curled on the floor was the tattered robes of the Exarch, crystalline fingers gripping the staff that looked like it had been about to take a tumbling journey elsewhere. The bard carefully stepped down onto the landing, hearing his slightly ragged breathing while the man tried to push himself up into more a proper sitting position, and as much as she was ready with a lecture on the tip of her tongue, Angelique knelt down and reached over to help him sit up straight for a moment,

“Easy now.” She spoke with a level voice, hands clasped against G’raha’s shoulders, his ears perking up a little and the ruby eyes looking rather startled when he finally had managed to focus. His ears slowly sank down against his skull at the realization and just as quickly did the eyes get shadowed by his bangs, despite everything that recently happened; it seemed G’raha wasn’t quite ready to meet her gaze anymore. “Are you well?” Angelique asked curiously, even if it was an obvious sign he was more weakened from the ordeal than he had originally let on and almost comically one of his ears gave a slight flick, so he was at least paying attention.

“I will be; come a few bells here in the tower. Much of the distance and aether I had used has weakened this already old body of mine.” He chuffed slightly with a weak smile as he made a move to get up from the ground, but just as he shifted his weight to get the staff to support him, his knees buckled under the weight and Angelique reached over to keep him up straight with a tired sigh. It was rather obvious that the bard wasn’t going to be able to have that discussion as it wouldn’t be right with him in this sort of state. “...Please, return to the festivities, get some well-deserved rest, do not worry so. Not over me at the least. It...seems I made you worry enough as it was…” His voice trailed off and once again did the ears pin down against his skull, and gaze still not meeting her directly.

“Tired though I am, I’m not going to leave you to sit here on the landing. What would Lyna think if she saw you?” Angelique told him, reaching over to take hold of his arm; usually warm of flesh and blood, still chilled from the cold of the Tempest, around her shoulders and her other around his waist. G’raha stiffened under her touch, but he did not argue as words simply failed to come from his usually philosophical laden tongue. “Do you have a room with an actual bed?”

“...It’s...up a few flights. Not often used mind you.” He replied, working to help put some of his weight into this. At least she kept his dignity intact by not carrying him in her arms like a weakened princess. Instead she supported him with little word, making sure she had a good grip and started back up in the opposite direction of the Exarch’s original destination.

The ascension itself had been a quiet one, no words were really exchanged except the few breaks of G’raha simply telling her how much further, the only noise were the sounds of their steps upon the ever spiraling staircase, the sound of water cascading nearby down into pools below, and the ever present tap of the staff ever so lightly hitting the crystal in order to keep him upright. They had reached a landing and taken to a corridor that her memory couldn’t remember being here previously, the light within the tower still guiding their steps, but further down they arrived at a set of gold-gilded doors; smaller than the often looming presence the entrance held.

Angelique reached over and took hold of the handle to push the door inward, once she released G’raha; who had been insistent he would be fine when they reached the room. The room was built in an almost circular structure like that of the Ocular floors below, surrounded walls of smooth crystal with ornate golden fixtures, the floor spread with a similar pattern of stars and constellations it would’ve given the illusion they walked on the night sky itself. Furnishings were simple at best with a bed and silken coverings, a bookshelf with very few books (much to her surprise) though messily stacked in places, a desk and chair with a candle long since melted down to a stub, nightstand with (again surprisingly) a chronometer ticking away with the current time which was well past the midnight hour. There was a fireplace as well that looked as if it hadn’t had a warm flame in it for ages with a thick layer of ash sitting with a fine layer of dust over it, Angelique was certain, and a door connected to another room as well.

“You have my thanks for bringing me up here.” G’raha spoke to her rather shortly as he walked across the room and lightly ran a hand over the silken bedding to remove some of the dust from it, “I apologize for imposing this upon you. After all, you’ve done much and more already.”

“It’s no trouble. Honestly, we’re both rather worn and tired.” Angelique shrugged her shoulders, letting her arms cross over her chest as she continued to gaze around the room. This certainly wasn’t G’raha’s taste, no that honor belonged to the Umbilicus down below with the Ocular, something that reminded her of his old pack rat self. “What’s past the door over here?” she wondered, raising her thumb to the door that was nearby.

“Oh, that? It is one of the connecting washrooms. Allagans ancient as they were, were certainly not heathens.” He returned with a surprisingly playful barb that Angelique could’ve felt her heart nearly take a sudden soaring leap off the edge of a cliff.

“How...about I get some warm water? Help you get cleaned up. You’re still covered in grime.”

That moment of playfulness that had filled the air died a quick death with not so much as a swan’s song as G’raha stiffened. “No, if there’s anything I don’t need help with it’s that.” His voice faltered and he sounded as if he were fighting with some kind of anxiousness pumping in his veins all the while his cheeks burned.

“But I-.”

“Besides, if you were to help with such a thing, you’re bound to flinch away from the sight underneath. This body is not that of the man you once-.” He had cut the bard off, but it seemed the blonde Hyur’s patience had finally run its course. The thin thread that had been created from the exhaustion, travel, and confusing emotions finally breaking with ease.

“Would you, for once, stop being so stubborn and allow me to help you?!” Angelique’s voice raised an octave and finally, _finally_ , did the ruby eyes finally connect with the emerald ones with wide-eyed shock. The words hung between them, practically echoing around, and the Hyur felt as if she were staring into a past memory; her own memory. A visage of five years previous of a usually stoic person with a similar stare, only this time the one who had shouted similar words once before were not of her, but the man in front of her; the eccentric Allagan historian, a bard in trade, and someone who had been her very first best friend.

“M-My apologies…” Angelique finally broke the silence as she felt a sheepish crimson shade creep up the back of her neck. “...I didn’t mean to…raise my voice like that…” 

As much as she wished for the floor to open and swallow her down to the depths again, the Miqo'te shook his head a little bit, face still red from embarrassment. “...No, the fault...I…” he trailed off, averting his gaze once more, but it seemed it wasn’t out of pure attempt to avoid, “...I couldn’t ask you for such a paltry task...not when…” He stopped as he realized this conversation wasn’t to really bear much fruit, breathing out a soft sigh. “...There’s a special switch to activate the heating coils if you wish for some warm water as well as other essentials you may need. I will disrobe in the meantime and you can do as you wish.”

Angelique exhaled slowly herself before nodding to head to the door that would take her into the washroom, only hearing the soft clinking of the metal adornments that had kept the rather confusing robe into place. Keeping her mind on task however, she walked the expanse of the room with its smooth crystal wall interior, there was tile on the floor and what was probably to be a bath but looked the size of the pool in the Goblet that was definitely too large for one person. Shaking her head, she crossed to a cupboard to find a wash basin and some cloths as well as a vial of a familiar scented oil before she went to the sink, turning a tap and crystal clear water pouring from its spigot. While waiting for the water to heat, Angelique would lightly drum her fingers against the wash basin, the maelstrom from earlier had calmed ever so slightly to a normal storm, letting herself calm. If not for herself, then to not bite the head off her best friend...who had what felt like moments ago could have very well died to keep her alive, to float away in a rift all alone.

A vice clamped against her lungs, breath becoming briefly shortened as the pace of her heart began to spread the quickening pulse. The very thought had been terrifying, the mental picture of just imagining the ache-filled suffering with no comfort...no friends...no family...just the thought that lives were to be saved by one person’s demise whilst body and aether deteriorated to the plaguing Light. This had been the reason why she held ire for the man in the room over, so willing to toss his life aside while she had no say in the matter.

“Get ahold of yourself.” the bard mustered out to try and take some more calming breaths, reaching over to the faucet to check the temperature of the water which had been hot but not enough to scald. _‘Now is not the time._ ’ her thoughts appealed to the more rational portion of her mindset, which for now won out (if only for now) as she let the basin fill enough so she could close the taps, popping the stopper on the vial and adding a few drops as the scent relaxed her senses for a moment.

_‘Perhaps it won’t be time for a while…’_

Lightly bumping her hip to the door to make sure it opened wider, closing it behind with her foot when on the other side, “All right, I have everything needed for now.” she piped, trying to keep somewhat casual as she looked over to G’raha when she spotted the tattered and dirtied robe and sandals sitting on the foot of the bed, but green eyes traveled to his back, a red tail dusted with white on the tip like his tail flicking with minor agitation. 

He in the meantime was trying to keep his back turned to her gaze, flesh hand absently gripping his crystal forearm even as those emerald orbs were scanning his back and the crystal that had formed along his flesh like a parasite. From cheek down around the back of his neck, his whole arm and hand covered and going further down his back, a crescent formed at his waist. He had been lucky that had been the extent of the crystal’s consumption if only for the moment. G’raha’s ears perked a little when the basin was set down on the nightstand.

“This might be a little bit easier if you sit down.” Angelique told him as she dipped one of the cloths into the warm water, squeezing out the excess to not create a pool onto the sheets.

“Ah...right…” he replied shortly as he moved to take a seat to the bed, posture still so stiff and tail curled tightly almost protectively around his own waist.

“You act as if I’m going to hurt you, you’re so stiff.” the Hyur observed as she held the cloth in her hand to take a seat on the edge of the bed. “Here, give me your arm.” It wasn’t so much a request as it was a soft demand, reaching over with her gloved one to pull his flesh arm away from its desire to hide the obvious. Angelique frowned a little at the silence, sighing quietly as she started to run the damp cloth along his hand first, working away the dirt and blood that had clung to his skin, under her fingertips she could feel every bit of tension, the muscles in his arms hadn’t seemed to lose their archery day luster. Then again it seemed he did become practiced in a blade, forcing him to keep in shape. 

Much like their climb to this room, there was a heavy and thick silence in the air that was only punctured by the shifts on satin sheets with the changing of body weight, creak of bedsprings with the water being wrung out of the cloth every so often. Angelique had gone over most of his body, questions popping up in her head as every moment passed, but it seemed that G’raha wasn’t really in the mood to talk with his gaze averting constantly. Tilting his chin up Angelique would start to wipe down his face, frowning a little at the cuts that started to show under the caked on dryness, “You know you should have gone to Chessamile first. It would be bad if these got infected or worse.” she stated and paused when she uncovered a particularly nasty purpling bruise on the side of his nose that could’ve been the cause of the blood there as well and she faltered a little.

_‘If only I had been a little bit faster. He wouldn’t be hurt and weak like this...’_

“...hy?”

“I...pardon?” His faint voice broke through the momentary stare off into the abyss, but this time he moved his hand over to take hold of her wrist to push her ministrations away for the moment.

“...Why are you doing this for me? After everything I have done to you thus far? I deserve your ire, your hate, every negative emotion you must be feeling…” Once more his Allagan eyes looked into hers, glossy with unshed tears from the overwhelming gentle movement. “This...This kindness of yours, even if you think it something you must do, I do not deserve…” Slowly the tears started cascading down his face as the dam broke, “I do not deserve an onze of it. I could have gotten you killed with a hairbrained hope that I could take it all away. I thrust you like a blade when I swore to myself I did not want to treat you as such and so many more gods be damned sins…” Deep in his core, he felt nauseated, pulling back and acting for a moment like a kit at heart when he tried hard to pull himself away and cut away that thread of wanting that comfort he didn’t deserve.

“I would much more prefer you to be angry than hiding it all under the pomp and circumstance of your hero persona. This…” He grit his teeth and absently rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes trying so hard to stem the flow of his tears. “...I can’t…”

Angelique sighed as she crossed her arms as she listened to him babble, and something deep in her own core felt rotten. Yes, she wished to be angry at him, yell, use her words as the thorn whip that would strike at him. “There is a time and place for everything.” she finally stated with a firmness, reaching over and pushing back his bangs so she could finish wiping away the dirt. “This is not the time, not right now. We’re all battle-worn. And obviously emotions are indeed still raw.” She watched as his lip trembled from the side-view she did have at least. Things were still painful, and it was obvious that the heavy mantle of being both the Exarch and G’raha had finally pushed the Miqo’te to a near body breaking pressure.

“I just…” he stammered as his throat tightened a little, a sob racking his body and escaping his lips, “...I just wanted...to save you…keep you a-alive this time.”

Angelique looked over to him as the wash cloth fell limply into the basin with a splash. She had known that Urianger had mentioned that what at the time he saw was a premonition of the Black Rose’s plague upon Eorzea, killing many; herself and the Scions included. The vice around her heart clamped again, because when the truth came out; it had not been Urianger’s vision of the past, but the true reflections of G’raha Tia’s visions when he had been awoken from his tower. Though he never elaborated the detail...just that she was gone. Truly she was at a loss for words even when her tongue was not as silver as Alphinaud’s or full of poetics like Urianger, often her own words could be brash and her mind easily spoken to a point she could not filter herself properly. 

Being a woman of actions more often than not did hesitate for a moment as she outstretched an arm, the constant tug of war in her mind saw him as both a stranger and her best friend, not sure which side to place him on before she would carefully reach around his shoulders as to not startle him. Gods, he twitched under her at the very contact, Angelique almost had the urge to pull back except she knew this had to be done...well perhaps not HAD to, but she wanted to give him some form of comfort because this was a lead to a new beginning wasn’t it? Even the Warrior of Darkness couldn’t comprehend it as she felt unsure how to help the broken sobbing of a man who had carried a heavy burden and still truly did.

It had been well-past the midnight bell when the Exarch had finally fallen asleep, the combination of the events, the tears, and perhaps the scent of the lavender oil she added into the basin’s water would help him into a slumber. Angelique found it prudent to seek out Y’shtola and Lyna to inform them of his condition, Y’shtola to check on his aetherical condition and Lyna because she was the captain of the guard...and supposed familial figure though of course not by blood. The bard was leaning against the wall outside the chamber, waiting in silence. Her thoughts had cleared and quieted for the time-being leaving her a little less tense, but her eyelids were drooping a little while her own tiredness was threatening to be all-consuming.

“Are you certain you do not want to go back to the Pendants?” A soft female voice jostled her out of the realm of nearly falling into a doze where she stood. Green eyes focused on the soft auburn hair and reproachful blue eyes of Ryne. She had followed out of concern, leaving Thancred with Urianger for the time at the still ongoing festivities. “You look as if you want to drop onto the floor right now.”

“Mm...I’m okay for the moment.” Angelique smiled a little reaching over to lightly pet the top of Ryne’s head. “I can stick this through for the time being. After all, I brought him to bed, it’s best I at least see what Y’shtola has to say on his condition. Then...then I’ll sleep.”

Ryne looked thoughtful as she would notice the older Hume look in the direction of the room’s door that had been closed since their arrival. “You know, I didn’t say much upon this subject, but when we were in the Tempest, you seemed rather determined to bring him home safe despite everything. You must care very much for him.”

“I…” Angelique felt her voice trail away at the notion. Did she really have such a look on her face? Yes, perhaps because she remembered that she couldn’t leave him to his fate, the other part of her was wanting to find Emet before her soul broke completely. Yes, deep down the Warrior of Darkness cared for the man. But...she couldn’t understand why she was wanting to deny every notion. Was it really because he had spun her around with lines of half-truths and secrecy? Or was it because she was scared to fully admit something else that she thought had burned out like an ember?

The door suddenly opened with a dull thunk as it was and Y’shtola walked out with Lyna at her side, leaving the doors open. “How is he Y’shtola?” Ryne asked curiously.

“The Exarch shall recover given time. The bountiful amount of Aether he once had was depleted to an exceptionally low standard and he should be lucky he’s still alive. However, it seems with the steward returned to the tower; he will regain it.” Y’shtola crossed her arms as she reported, fog-covered eyes looking in the direction of the room. “Whilst I’m no chirurgeon, I believe Miss Chessamile would be in agreement if I told her what I’m telling you now; he needs proper bed rest for the time being. Stubborn as he comes to be it would be no surprise if he tried to remove himself and go about business as usual when he comes around. My recommendation is that one of us stays by his side until the proper time that he’s able to hold his own weight.”

Lyna looked at Y’shtola and her expression looked rightly disgruntled, “As much as I hate to admit, I agree with it. Normally I would appoint myself to his side, but it is my job to protect the Crystarium and its people with the guard. We don’t know much about any remaining chances of Sin Eater roaming around and we’d rather not take that chance.”

“For the moment, I figured it would be best appoint someone who knows him best.” Y’shtola soon looked over to Angelique who stiffened a little under the sly gaze of the Miqo’te’s narrowed eyes. “Angelique, you knew him best since not many of the other Scions did without his guise and you are also on a recovery period after everything that has happened.”

It wasn’t a simple request that Y’shtola was asking of her. It didn’t sound like one; no this was indeed more a demand. A way to get both the Crystal Exarch and the Warrior of Darkness to take their rest, and recover from their harrowing ventures. The bard wasn’t sure how to feel about it...part of her wanted to tell the sorceress where to shove it and the other part wanted to just do it and be done with the task.

Angelique’s lips formed a thin line then and absently her fingernails dug a bit into her skin, but not hard enough to draw forth blood. “Very well. I can get a cushion and a blanket and it’ll suffice for the moment.” After all to traipse around the tower unguided was bound to lead to trouble, especially if rooms were different than how she knew them.

“But this floor is...and I mean no disrespect, cold and hard. It isn’t like how you would sleep out under the trees.” Ryne looked rather taken aback by the simple notion, aghast that a normal person would even consider sleeping on the unforgiving floor under their feet. “You should at least get a bedroll or something more comfortable to rest on. You’ll just hurt yourself more in your recovery if you lay without much between oneself and the ground.”

“Ryne is correct.” Y’shtola input with a nod. “The one you had packed from the Tempest is rather soaked from the swim back. Ryne, would you be a dear and get one from the Pendants? I’m sure the Master of Suites would be more than willing to offer one. As for myself, I will go check on Thancred and Alisaie, make sure the two of them aren’t getting themselves into some form of trouble or another.” Ryne had nodded by the request and Y’shtola had followed behind them before Angelique could stop and question her choice in why she was making her do this other than making certain she took her rest seriously.

Did she know something? Whatever it was, the reason behind it was going to leave a sour taste in Angelique’s mouth for certain. Shifting her stance she made to go into the room to wait, but stopped when she felt a hand on her shoulder, turning to glance up to meet Lyna’s amethyst gaze.

“Listen, I know at the beginning I regarded you with suspicion. Even when my lord considered you his friend. It hadn’t been the first time, what with your friends all here. I...digress, you have done much for Novrandt. Brought us a time of peace that we thought we would never see again. Though, none made the Lord happier than to know you were at his side.” Lyna shifted her gaze a little to the side, a frown upon her lips. “Just...um...do take care of him, when you do come around to check on his condition.” The captain shifted her footing a little, not used to being this soft spoken around people other than the Exarch. “I have to excuse myself, when the first dawn comes is the patrol of a new day.”

The Vii took her leave rather swiftly behind after a quick wish of ‘goodnight’ and Angelique groaned tiredly as she allowed the back of her head hit the door with a dull thud. Her body ached and every part of her was on the verge of just letting herself fall to the floor and just sleep. Maybe if she did she would wake up and this would all be some kind of fever dream. Regardless, her feet would walk into the room with the door left open a crack as she walked over to the side of the bed, G’raha Tia slept, crystal arm just resting over his chest with the once dusty duvet now placed over him to bring some type of warmth to his body.

“Back to sleeping all over again huh, G’raha?” Angelique laughed a little to herself, “Just like back then too. Only there’s no door between us.” Reaching out a hand she would brush away some of the red and white bangs, frowning a little as she felt a searing warmth against his brow. A fever? Could he even get sick? She thought that the tower suppressed much that had to do with illness and proper rest. Though perhaps with his extended time away from the tower, the aetherical stores could not deal with something that was already developed in his body.

Ryne had been kind enough to bring the bed roll along with a blanket, bless her heart, despite how drowsy the young girl had become from the trip. Angelique had sent her off and told her to go get some sleep and if she needed she could borrow her suite for the moment since she wasn’t going to be using it herself. Setting it out on the floor a ways from the bed, unsure how close to be, she opted for being on the other side of the nightstand that acted like a divider. She had removed any gear pieces she still wore with all of her casual attire being at the suite’s wardrobe, and boots set aside Angelique would let her body lay upon the roll, eyelids heavy.

The most familiar noise in the typical quiet aside from the slowly ticking chronometer was G’raha’s soft and slow breathing, a sound that she hadn’t heard from him in a while even as darkness came like a covering shroud, sleep at long last coming to collect its debt.


End file.
